


Turpentine Chaser

by rudennotgingr



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance, Smut, post gitf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 07:25:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1810180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudennotgingr/pseuds/rudennotgingr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of GitF, the Doctor finds Rose in the TARDIS kitchen...completely hammered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for gallifreyslostson, who asked for post GitF Rose getting hammered, and then make up times. Huge thank you to moltobenebananas for her help, especially with the last chapter. All mistakes are mine.

Rose sloshed the dark blue liquid around in her clear glass. She couldn’t quite remember the name of it at the moment, and she didn’t right care what it was called either. All she needed to remember was that this alien liqueur would get her properly pissed in record time.

Exactly what she needed.

The Doctor had clearly wanted to be alone after he had returned from _France_. The word left a nasty taste in her mouth and gave her a sickening feeling that mixed violently with the alcohol already churning in her stomach. He wanted to be alone. Fine. Well, so did she. After growling at Mickey to go find himself a room and leave her the bloody hell alone, she had marched straight to the TARDIS kitchen. A part of her knew she would have to apologize to him tomorrow, he didn’t deserve to be treated that way. But she didn’t need his I told you so’s or worse, his pity. Not so soon after Sarah Jane.

At least in the end her and Sarah Jane understood each other. Had even ended up liking one another after everything was sorted. The same could not be said of...she brought the glass to her lips and threw her head back, chugging the rest of the drink in two seconds then slamming it down on the table. That French whore wasn’t even worth Rose saying her name, let alone thinking it. A tiny, logical voice that sounded far too much like the Doctor insisted _she_ wasn’t completely to blame for the events of the past few hours.

Rose clearly hadn’t had enough to drink yet.

She poured herself another glass, noting with a frown that she had already downed over half the bottle. She drained the drink in the same manner she had the previous one, quickly and without finesse. She set the glass down awkwardly, fumbling to keep it level. Her limbs felt fuzzy and detached. Her cares dropped away slowly, like leaves from a tree. Or a wilting flower, she thought ironically.

She sighed, closing her eyes and feeling the world spin, wondering how much was the booze and how much was the time ship twirling in the vortex. Had enough time passed that the Doctor would no longer be in the console room? She had a strong urge to go sit on the ledge of the TARDIS doors, letting her legs swing out in the air as she watched the stars...or whatever at the moment. She really didn’t fancy running into him just yet. Or for the next several weeks was fine with her.

The betrayal cut deep, a knife twisting in her heart. She had thought she was different, special. Especially after the conversation they had outside the chip shop. He had seemed so open, so honest. It was all a lie. The sting of her broken heart was still too acute for her liking. She reached out for the bottle, nearly knocking it over as it swam in and out of focus. Ah, there it was. She grinned widely as she closed her fingers around the cool bottle, the effects of the alcohol hitting her with the force of a lorry.

She swayed slightly from side to side, a wide stupid smile on her face as the tingling numbness finally spread over her entirely, encompassing her mind and her heart as well as her body. She let out a contented sigh, the only sound in the otherwise empty kitchen. She went to pour herself more of the potent beverage, tongue poking out between her teeth in concentration. Her arm shook and she narrowed her eyes, trying to keep the stream of blue pouring only into her cup. Hitting the full point, she jerked the bottle up before she overflowed the glass, but still spilled liquid from the bottle to the table.

She gasped then burst into a fit of giggles, clutching the bottle tightly to her chest as she wobbled in her chair. Composing herself, she gingerly placed the bottle on the table then got up. Tried to anyway. It took her three tries before she was finally standing on wobbly legs, gripping the edge of the table as the room tipped back and forth.

Weaving her way from the table to the cabinets, she felt lighter than air and hummed happily to herself. Until she actually reached her destination and couldn’t force her mind to remember which drawer contained the towels. _Help_ , she thought to the sentient time ship. Grabbing the first drawer, she yanked it open and let out a delighted squeal when she found exactly what she was looking for. After grabbing a blue towel and closing the drawer, she collapsing dramatically on the counter, stroking the cool surface in thanks.

“At least someone loves me,” she mused wistfully.

“What exactly are you doing to my TARDIS?” A voice drifted from the doorway, a voice she very much did not want to hear.

Rose shot up and whirled around, bringing a hand to her head as her version tipped and swirled.

“Are you alright?” the Doctor asked as he stepped further into the kitchen.

“I’m fine,” she snapped, not wanting him anywhere near her. She wanted his pity even less than Mickey’s. Taking a deep breath she attempted to march back to the table, where her drink was waiting patiently. Stumbling several times, she could only giggle and pointedly ignore the stony stare he was currently giving her.

Reaching the table she suddenly realized a slight problem. She would need to pick up both her glass and the bottle in order to completely clean up the mess. But no matter how she thought about the best way to approach the situation...she never had enough hands. Maybe, just maybe...she could hold the glass and the bottle in one hand? Probably not...but worth a shot. She wasn’t about to ask _him_ for help. Trying unsuccessfully to grab the bottle and then the glass, she thought maybe she should try the glass instead… _then_ the bottle.

“Oh, for…” the Doctor hissed as she picked up her glass, careful not to spill the alcohol. He snatched the towel out of her hand and hurriedly wiped up the mess she had created. He turned to face her, the muscle in his jaw clenching. “What the bloody hell do you think you are doing?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I needed your permission to drink, _father_ ,” she sneered then downed the entire glass in one go. The outrage written all over his face was worth the burn zinging down her throat.

“I’m old enough for it,” he retorted.

And then some,” she muttered, setting her now empty glass on the table.

“Excuse me?”

“Forget it. You couldn’t be my father anyway. Wouldn’t work.” She waved her hands at him dismissively, debating on whether or not she could stand to be around him long enough to take another drink.

“Oh?” he asked, arching an eyebrow and dropping the towel on the table.

“Yup. You hold my hand and hug me far too often. Not to mention you stare...” she trailed off, the alcohol making her feel more bold than usual. She grabbed a boob in each hand and jiggled, smirking as his eyes nearly popped out of his head.

“What?” he squeaked, quickly averting his eyes. “I have no idea what you are talking about?”

She rolled her eyes, hands still firmly on her chest. “Oh, come on. You know...chest, breasts, tits, bossom, boobs, chesticles, knock-”

“Rose!” he blurted. Was he blushing? “Stop it. And...and release your...self.” He waggled his fingers in the direction of her chest.

“Why?” she asked in mock innocence.

“Because...I...you,” he swallowed then seemed to recollect himself. “You’re being extremely unlady like.”

Something inside her snapped. And her previous teasing turned ruthless. Fire rushed through her veins and blood pounded in her ears. “Well, we can’t all be French Royalty. So maybe next time you should pick your _assistants_ more carefully.” She gave her breasts another good squeeze and stuck out her tongue for good measure before releasing them.

“What do you mean by that?” His tone was carefully neutral, but even in her intoxicated state Rose could detect the way his eyes had narrowed and his hands had balled into fists.

“You know exactly what I mean, _Time Lord_.” She took a step closer to him, taunting him.

“Rose, I think you’ve had quite enough to drink and should probably head to bed.” His patronizing tone grated her nerves and the fact that he hadn’t taken the bait made her blood boil.

“What do you bloody care?” she yelled, anger exploding from her lips. “Running off and leaving me behind, while you...you snog some French whore.”

“She kissed me!” he insisted, his eyes wide at her unusual outburst.

“Bet it was bloody awful too. Having her pressed up against you. Bet you just _hated_ every second of it.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm and she had taken several more steps towards him, causing him to back up until his back was nearly touching the wall. It wasn’t bloody fair. Reinette...Cassandra...and who knew how many others now that it was out in the open? Everyone had had their go at snogging him, why not her? The way things were rapidly deteriorating between them, it was now or never. And she would be damned if some bitchy trampoline had kissed him using her body and she had never taken this chance to find out what it was like on her own.

She plunged her hands into his hair, bringing his face down to hers and crashing their lips together as she used her body to slam him roughly against the wall. At his surprised gasp, she dipped her tongue hungrily into his mouth. She pressed close to him, crushing her chest to his and tugging at his hair. Sucking his bottom lip into her mouth, she gave him a good nip before releasing it and stepping away from him. They were both panting and she could feel that her face was flushed from more than just the booze.

She gave him a smug look, pleased that he continued to be dazed and confused. But before she could exit the room, he was grabbing her and flipping their positions. This time her back hit the wall as his body pinned her in place and he covered her mouth with his own. He had a hand on her hip and the other tangled in her hair, angling her head for better access. He wasted no time delving into her mouth with his tongue, pressing closer.

Rose snaked her arms around his neck and kissed him back just as roughly. Mouths and tongues moved against each other instead of in unison, teeth knocking and nipping too sharply on tender, swollen lips. The burning passion and fuming anger added a level of arousal Rose hadn’t even been aware of. She was furious with him, yet the only thing she could think about was tearing his clothes off and riding him until they both combusted in a fiery conclusion. Heat and moisture pooled between her legs. She hiked one leg up and wrapped it around his waist as best she could.

His hand slid from her hip to her bum and he ground his hips into hers. She could feel how hard he was between their layers, rubbing her in almost just the right spot. She groaned and he pulled away, staring at her with impossibly dark eyes.

He smirked and her anger flared back to life, momentarily overriding the need to feel him inside her.

“Fuck you,” she spat, with every intention of pushing him away.

“Is that what you want, Rose?” His voice was raspy and the reverberations echoed from his chest into hers, tiny vibrations sending bolts of desire straight to her core. “For me to fuck you?” He rolled his hips against her, this time hitting her in just the right spot. She gasped and arched into him, her hand tightening in the fabric of his suit jacket. He did it again. This time her eyelids fluttered shut and she leaned her head against the wall. Again. She bit her lip, trying to keep from moaning.

He stilled long enough for her to open her eyes and look at him. Coherent thoughts swirled at the edge of her mind, too fuzzy for her to make out. She batted them away, focusing on panting out her one word answer.

“Yes.”


	2. Chapter 2

The Doctor’s eyes widened for an instant before darkening to nearly black. Rose could feel her heart hammering wildly in her chest, his own double beat racing just as frantically where their chests were pressed together.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asked in a gravelly voice that made her toes curl.

“Yes,” she repeated without hesitation, half formed objections choking on the cloud of lust and inebriation that filled her mind.

“Rose...you’re drunk and--”

“Well, if you’re not going to fuck me then you can march your skinny arse to the console room and take me home.” Her words came out bitter and harsh and part of her regretted them as soon as they were spoken. Even in her current state, she could see the hurt and panic in his eyes. He thought she meant take her home for good. Forever. She squeezed her eyes shut, needing everything to stop spinning. She should correct herself, assure him that she didn’t mean for forever...just for a bit. But a darker part of herself emerged and tamped out her normally good nature. He deserved this. After what he had done to her earlier that day. Let him panic. Let him know what it feels like to think he was never going to see her again. At least for a bit.

She gasped as his mouth descended on hers, not the reaction she had been expecting from him at all. His firm lips and his wet tongue moved with a heightened sense of urgency and his hands dug into her hips. She kissed him back just a fiercely, nipping at his lip and tugging at his hair. She could still feel his hardened erection between them and she rolled her hips against him, making him groan into her mouth. The sound shuddered through her body and her arousal peaked at a new high. Her entire body vibrated with an almost painful sense of wanting, of _needing_ him.

As if reading her mind, one of his hands trailed along the waist of her jeans until he reached the button. Letting her break for air, he trailed hot open mouthed kissed along her jaw and neck. He sucked hard on the skin where her neck met her shoulder as his hand undid the button on her trousers followed quickly by her zipper. Easing her leg down from around his waist he released her flesh with an audible pop. There would be a mark there in the morning. And she vowed to return the favor before they were through. He slunk down her body, pausing to playfully bite at her breasts through her thin t shirt and bra. The rasp of the fabric over her sensitive nipples made her fingers convulse around the silky brown tresses slipping through her fingers as he moved lower.

Both of his hands gripped the waist of her jeans and yanked down. It wasn’t until he had helped her out of them completely and he was kneeling before her with a slack jawed expression that she realized he had taken her knickers off as well. Her face flushed, making her already overheated body feel like she was on fire. Her head was whirling and she wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that he simply continued to stare. Unconsciously, she pulled on the hem of her shirt, trying to cover herself with the too short fabric as she wobbled on her feet.

His hands shot out, snatching her wrists as he moved closer. He looked up at her and shook his head, moving to place her palms flat against the wall on either side of her. He had remained low, and Rose could feel his breath panting over her abdomen. She shivered, taking in the sight of him level with her throbbing sex. She was sure moisture was dripping down her leg. She felt slightly embarrassed, yet he held her gaze and she whimpered as his tongue dragged over his pouty bottom lip.

Keeping his grip on her wrists, he moved his head forward and nuzzled the inside of her thighs, nipping playfully at her exposed skin. Her body tensed in anticipation, her fingers pressing into the wall as if trying to dig into the solid material. She bit her lip to keep from begging him to touch her, even though the throb between her legs was so intense she could her the blood in her ears echoing its steady beat.

She half sobbed in relief when she felt his tongue slide through her folds, slowly tasting her from her entrance up to her clit. He was slow at first, exploring and learning what made her moan quietly under her breath and what made her cry out in pleasure, her hips jerking towards him of their own accord. He guided her hands to his hair and she instantly threaded her fingers deep into the strands, shakily seeking purchase as he flicked his tongue lightly over her swollen bundle of nerves. With his own hands now free, he moved one of her legs to rest over his shoulder. Her body protested at first, not sure she would be coordinated enough to remain standing. But the instant he plunged his tongue inside her, all objections fizzled out of existence.

Time seemed to slow down as she watched his mouth work her to a frenzied state of ecstasy. His sideburns scratched pleasantly at the inside of her thighs. He had an arm wrapped around the leg resting on his shoulder, assuring that she would remain upright. The other hand snaked up her body, sliding under her shirt and reaching up to yank the cup of her bra down. His fingers massaged and tweaked her breast, making her utter a string of profanities between gasps for air.

Rose had been given oral before, but not like this. He was bringing her peak higher and higher as he fucked her with nothing but his talented tongue. Her muscles were tightening, pulling taut like a rubber band getting ready to snap. She pressed his face closer, hugging him with her leg as she rutted her hips frantically against his face. He sucked on her clit and hummed as his tongue worked an equally fast rhythm, circling and flicking in a maddening dance that had her yelling his name.

”Come for me, Rose,” he mumbled into her core, never pausing his ministrations. She had been fighting to keep watching him, her eyes yearning to squeezing shut and drown out the visual stimuli. But she wasn’t sure when she would ever have this chance again, and she wanted to memorize the way he looked, crouched down with his face between her legs. As he murmured her name, his dark eyes looked up and locked with hers. With one last hard suck, she came hard around him, his tongue stroking her tightening inner walls. Her body spasmed as white hot stats burst behind her eyes, her hands tugging ruthlessly on his hair as her hips rocked involuntarily.

The Doctor worked her down from her high, lapping up her juices in smooth strokes that gradually slowed down as his hands danced soothingly over her body. He kissed the inside of her thighs then removed her leg from his shoulder. Helping her remain on her feet, he stood up. He brought his lips to hers, the taste of her still on his tongue sent an unexpected wave of arousal straight to her core. Yet, he kissed her in a leisurely unhurried pace. It was so different from before, so soft and gentle, as if he were treasuring this moment. Treasuring her.

Rose's emotions did a complete flip. The hot burning anger and simmering need to feel him inside her fizzled out of existence. The reality of the situation and her actions came crashing down on her head. Tears seeped from beneath her eyelids as she gripped his jacket tighter, guilt at manipulating him and the love she knew she felt for him warring within her heart. Her brain was still hazy and she didn't trust herself to speak, hoping she was conveying her emotions in the way she kissed him. She clung to him, as if he would vanish at any moment, delving her tongue into his mouth in an effort to memorize the way he tasted, a mixture of tea, her, and something her brain associated with time. There was a desperate undercurrent in her actions, and she wasn't sure if that was the give away or the salt from her tears that reached their lips that made him pull away.

"Rose?" he choked out, voice thick with desire and concern. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

She laughed, an ugly hollow sound that carried no trace of joy, and shook her head.

His brows knit close together and he brought a hand to her face, cupping her cheek. The gesture seemed so natural and effortless that Rose had to remind herself that _this_ was not something they normally ever did. Bile churned in the pit of her stomach. How could she have let this get so out of hand? To be fair, she had never actually thought he returned her feelings to the same degree. Hoped, yeah...but never thought he would ever cross the line. And yet, here she was, knickerless as he snogged her against the wall. She shuddered at the memory of his tongue on another more intimate part of her body.

"It's this isn't it?" he asked softly, his eyes searching her face.

She blinked rapidly, forcing herself to focus on what he was saying.

Taking her silence for affirmation, the Doctor dropped his hands from her body and stepped back. "Right, well...I, er..." he trailed off, swallowing hard as he awkwardly thrust his hands into his trouser pockets. The hurt and rejection written clearly on his face broke her heart.

"I'm sorry," she blurted, stepping forward as if to comfort him but then thinking better of it. Fresh tears ran down her cheeks even as the sudden movement made the kitchen tilt unpleasantly, a wave of dizziness seizing her. She slumped down the wall, and wrapped her arms around her bare legs. She leaned forward and rested her head on her knees. Sobs wracked her body as the guilt grew and gnawed at her insides.

She heard a soft rustle of fabric in front of her, but didn't dare look up. Light touches on her shoulder alerted her to the Doctor's crouching form beside her. He tried to get her to look at him, but she refused, crying harder each time he touched her face. She heard him exhale roughly and could imagine the frustrated way he ran a hand through his hair. That only made her guilt worse and a new bout of sobs tore their way from her throat.

Without warning, his arms were looping around her back and under her knees. He hoisted her into the air and she buried her face in his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. A small part of her knew it was wrong to seek comfort from him in this way, but she was so far gone she couldn't stop. He kissed the top of her head and murmured softly into her hair, quiet words that she didn't understand.

She wasn't aware of their surroundings. All she knew was that in a few minutes time, that somehow also seemed to drag on for an eternity, he was placing her gently in her bed. It took several attempts to disentangle her arms from around his neck. When he finally succeeded, she immediately turned away from him, shame and disgust at herself raging within. She grabbed the nearest pillow and pulled it to her chest, burying her face in it as she continued to cry. Her body ached from shaking and she was finding it hard to breathe, sharp intakes of breath coming so quickly she wasn't able to release any air. She felt the duvet being pulled up to her waist, then a dip in the mattress behind her.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor's warm breath ghosted over her ear, his words ripping new holes in her heart and starting a fresh burn in her lungs as she sobbed harder into her pillow. Fingers rested lightly on her temples. Before she would have been furious at what she knew was coming. But right now, between the alcohol and the tears, she wished he would have done this sooner. An inexplicable sense of calmness creeped over her, slowly relaxing her muscles. A different haze rolled through her mind as her crying ceased and her breathing evened out.

She was already fast asleep by the time the Doctor removed his fingers from her temples.

Rose wasn't aware of the kiss he placed to her forehead. Or the gentle brushing of hair away from her tear stained face.

She also missed the slouch of his shoulders and the heaviness of his steps as he crossed from her bed to the door. He sunk down to the floor, still inside her room, where he stayed most of the night, his head in his hands.


	3. Chapter 3

Rose awoke to a loud pounding on her door, her body tensing in response. Or was it in her head? She sighed as the noise subsided, only to grimace as the insistent drumming came again. She grumbled and buried her head beneath the pillows, pressing them tightly to her ears in an effort to muffle the noise. This time it was softer, but somehow more painful, as if having to filter through the feathers and fabric forced the sound to a pitch specifically created to make her ears bleed.

Grumbling, she stumbled out of bed and towards the door. The strange ache in her muscles distracted her sleep addled mind from double checking her appearance before cracking open the door.

“Mickey, I swear--” Her threat died on her tongue as she realized it wasn’t Mickey at the door, but the Doctor. He was balancing a tray in one hand and his other hand was raised in the air, balled into a fist. “Oh.”

He gave her a small smile and she groaned inwardly, knowing she must look a wreck. She couldn’t even remember how she had gotten to her room in the first place. Memories of the night before burst to the surface, jumbled and clouded by her inebriated state at the time. She furrowed her brow and brought a hand to her pulsing head, trying to make sense of what had happened. At the moment she could only clearly recall drinking over half a bottle of a very strong alien liqueur all on her own.

“Did you have to knock so bloody loudly?” she grumbled, rubbing her temple and opening the door a bit more in order to lean on the frame.

“Rose, I was barely touching the door. If I had _tapped_ any quieter, I would have been making no noise at all. Now, will you please let me in, I brought you something for your…” he trailed off as his eyes fell to the tray then froze as he brought his gaze back to her. His eyes blew wide and he swallowed audibly, shifting on his feet and tugging on his ear.

She narrowed her eyes, puzzled by the faint blush in his cheeks and the way he suddenly refused to look at her. She dropped her hand to her side, irritation sparking within her and bringing back memories of harsh words exchanged between them. What the hell was he doing here so soon after an argument like that? Her fingertips brushed the bare skin of her thigh and she stiffened. As subtly as she could, she trailed her hand up to her hip, praying that she was wearing something, _anything_.

Her face burned and she wished the ground would swallow her up as her fingers found nothing but exposed skin, not a trace of fabric. She had answered the door in nothing but her t-shirt from the day before. Fuck. The Doctor’s tongue darted out to moisten his lips as he hesitantly met her eyes. Images of his head nestled between her thighs, his tongue stroking her clit until she had come into his mouth flashed in her mind.

Oh.

 _Fuck_.

She groaned and spun away from the door, leaving it open for him to follow if he wished. Embarrassment, guilt, anger, and an irritating wave of fresh arousal all bounced around inside her. As she tried to walk casually to her bed, wanting nothing more than to bolt and bury herself under the covers, part of her wondered if he was watching her bare arse as she crossed the room.

Sitting down cross legged on her bed, she pulled the duvet up and over her lap, wrapping it slightly around her waist as he kicked the door shut with his foot. As he walked over to her, she noticed that his cheeks were tinted a deeper shade of pink and he was avoiding her gaze again. So he had been looking. A sharp pain in her head was the only reason she didn’t give him a smug grin. That and the guilt at how she had basically manipulated him began worming back into her heart. Even though a small voice reminded her that he had somewhat deserved it.

“Take the blue pills with the glass of water,” the Doctor instructed in a detached manner as he placed the tray down on the bed in front of her. “They should only take about fifteen, maybe twenty minutes to kick in. Then you will be right as rain and back to your usual grouchy morning self.” Rose opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand as he sat on the other side of the tray, one knee bent and the other leg hanging off the edge of the mattress. “Which is what the tea is for.” He grinned broadly, puffing out his chest as if he had just saved an entire planet with the wave of his hand.

Rose rolled her eyes but reached obediently for the pills and glass of water, eager to silence the pounding in her head. After wincing and swallowing the meds, she placed the glass back on the tray, eyeing the other items for the first time. Several piece of toast lay stacked on a plate next to a jar full of a red jam, no label to indicate what flavor he had grabbed this time. There were two bananas and two steaming cups of tea.

Two.

So...he was planning on eating with her then. Eating breakfast together, even in her room, wasn’t anything new or out of the ordinary. But given the events of last night, she had fully expected him to turn tail and run from her as fast as his long legs would carry him. Apparently, he was going with the “pretend it never happened” plan instead. Fine.

She reached for the mug she knew to be hers, a plaid pink pattern covering the entire surface. She brought the cup tentatively to her lips and moaned in appreciation as the warm liquid cascaded down her throat, the tea made just the way she liked it. The Doctor made a choking noise and she stopped drinking to look at him in concern.

He didn’t appear to have anything in his mouth or actually be in any danger of suffocating. His hands were fisted into the fabric of her duvet and he was staring at her with an odd look, his eyes dark and his jaw clenched tightly. She arched an eyebrow at him, cradling her mug in both hands with her elbows propped on her legs. What the hell… _oh_.

She swallowed and willed her heart to beat at a normal pace, more cloudy memories drifting through her mind. The press of his fingers on her skin, rasp of his sideburns against her thighs, and the moans she had made while he fucked her with his tongue. Heat coiled low in her abdomen and she gripped her mug tighter. They stared at each other, both knowing what the other was thinking about but neither willing to broach the subject.

Her stomach rumbled, the small vibrations traveling up to her still pounding head making her flinch. It was a welcomed interruption, snapping the moment of tension enough that they were able to look away and pretend things were normal.

They ate in awkward silence for several minutes, timing their movements so that their hands wouldn’t brush in the ways Rose usually looked forward to. The pain in her head began to subside, but her stomach was still twisted in knots. She wasn’t sure if it was from too much booze the night before or the fact that the Doctor was sitting right across from her while she was completely knickerless as if nothing were amiss. As the throbbing faded away, memories became more clear and she was having a harder and harder time looking at his face without blushing, without wanting to launch herself at him and repeat the events while sober. She squirmed in her seat, growing more and more irritated with his very presence and with herself.

“Are you sure you don’t want any on your toast?” he asked while holding up the jam jar, his voice light and frustratingly unaffected as he attempted conversation.

Rose shook her head and wrinkled her nose, the thought of anything other than butter on her bread making her stomach churn unpleasantly. Finishing the last bite of her plain piece of toast, she picked her mug back up to wash down the dry, scratchy crumbs. Her cup obscured his activity from view until she lowered it back down several seconds later.

Her hand tightened around her mug and she nearly spit out the last swallow still trying to work its way down. The Doctor had two fingers covered in jam and was trying to remove the sticky substance by dragging the flat of his tongue from base to tip before plunging the digits into his mouth and sucking hard. Moisture pooled between her legs and she bit her lip to resist changing positions in order to rub her thighs together.

She cleared her throat, making his eyes jump to hers while his fingers were still half in his mouth. She shook her head furiously, staring pointedly at his hand. He furrowed his brow, working his tongue slowly over his fingers and driving her thoughts further into the gutter. His eyes widened the instant her meaning clicked into place. He quickly removed the digits from his mouth and wiped any remaining jam on his trousers. She breathed what she hoped was a quiet sigh of relief and looked down at her mug to try and recollect herself.

“So do you,” he coughed and shifted on the mattress, “Er, do you want to talk about it?”

Rose nearly choked on air, he eyes flying to his face. “I’m sorry?”

“It. Last night.” He tugged on his ear, looking at point just above her shoulder as if trying to find all the ways he could indicate what he was referring to without using the words “oral sex”.

“No, no,” she blurted, wanting to get this over with now that they had started. “I know _what_ you’re talking about. I’m just trying to wrap my mind around the fact that you _want_ to talk about it at all.”

He shrugged, finding the wall behind her extremely fascinating. “I don’t _want_ to talk about it. I--”

“Oh, well there it is then,” she snapped. He was the one who had brought it up, the least he good do was look at her. “That’s fine. We can just pretend that nothing happened and save _you_ the embarrassment.”

“That’s not…” he ran a hand over his face and tilted his head to look at her. “Rose, that’s not quite what I meant. Yes, I would rather not have this conversation. But I think we _should_ talk about it.” He paused, giving her a tight smile. “And you have no reason to be embarrassed.”

“Who says I am? I’m not the one who was sober through the whole thing.” She was fighting to keep her tone neutral. Here she had thought he was actually going to rationally discuss this with her, and instead he was talking down to her.

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” he asked carefully as Rose downed the last of her tea.

“I was drunk. Smashed. Properly pissed.” She shrugged, placing her mug back on the tray then crossed her arms. “Not to mention a touch angry. I’m also a young, human female with certain… _wants_. I can hardly be held accountable for my actions. You on the other hand…” she trailed off. She was making low blows and she knew it, but she couldn’t stop. She was still hurt from the day before and while he had probably given her one of the best orgasms of her life, she didn’t understand why. The only thing she could figure was that he was a bit more like human blokes than he wanted to admit. Acting out of hurt and looking to get in a quick shag to try and forget the girl he had actually wanted to be with.

“Rose, if there’s something you want to say, just say it.” He paused for effect, fixing her with a patronizing stare. “Insinuations and provocations are beneath you.”

She would have thrown the tray in his face and stormed out had she not been naked from the waist down. “I’m saying I _have_ an excuse, what’s yours? Hmm?” Her words were now pouring out of her unbidden, lashing out as the hurt and anger reached a breaking point. “A bit more horny than you like to usually let on? Parading around the French court for god knows how long leave you wanting to--”

“I only did it because you threatened to leave!” he shouted, leaning forward and breathing heavily. They glared at each other, the air between them sparking with a similar charge as the night before. She was torn between wanting to slap him and wanting to snog him senseless, this stupid argument put behind them and forgotten. He made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat then hopped up from the bed and began pacing, running a hand distractedly through his hair.

“So you what? Took pity on me?” she sneered after his fifth lap of the room, furious that he was able to get up and move around while she was stuck hiding under the covers in her own room.

“No, that’s not…I didn’t--” he came to a stop just beside her, too close for her liking.

“Or is that a service you provide for all _assistants_ when morale gets low?” she pressed on, the silence moments before only fueling her fury.

“Stop it,” he growled before she could continue, towering over her. His hands were balled into tight fists at his sides and his eyes flashed in the way she knew was a precursor to the full unleashing of the Oncoming Storm. Instead of being scared, the way his enemies always were, she felt a thrill run through her.

They were rapidly mixing the same dangerous cocktail of emotions they had just before she had snogged him against the wall in the kitchen, sparking a series of events that neither of them had fought against very hard. The only thing missing now was the alcohol. She was almost sorry.

“Or what?” she challenged, staring up at him. “You gonna fuck me properly this time?” 


	4. Chapter 4

Rose clapped her mouth shut the instant the last word had popped out and stared at the Doctor in horror. His jaw fell open and his eyes widened in shock. Her temper was getting the best of her, yet she couldn’t make it stop. She just kept poking and prodding, waiting for something to snap.

He looked down at her, carefully deciding his next course of action. “How about you just tell me what’s _really_ bothering you?” he asked calmly, but she could see the storm clouds swirling just beneath the surface.

“No,” she replied flatly, twisting so that she faced him full on instead of at an angle. The duvet slipped from it’s tight hold around her waist, somehow still keeping her covered. His eyes flicked to the subtle movement, then back to her face.

He hooked a finger under her chin and tilted her head up, making sure she was looking him in the eyes. “Please,” he ground out, making the word a harsh command instead of a gentle request.

All the insecurities and doubts rushed through her, making her feel like she was drowning. She jerked her head to the side, out of his grasp and glared at her door.

"Rose, talk to me.” He stepped closer until his knees pressed into the mattress, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets. “Was it Mickey?"

She snorted. "No, it wasn't Mickey.” She turned to look up at him, her voice dripping with disdain. “It was you."

"Me?” His head jerked back, as if she had slapped him. He furrowed his brow, his eyes softening as he spoke. “What...what did I do?"

"Reinette.” The name came out harsh and tasting sour on her tongue. She kept his gaze, refusing to show him how much he had hurt her.

"Reinette...?” He ran a hand through his hair until something in his mind clicked into place. The muscle in his jaw twitched and Rose could see the lines of his shoulders harden as he tensed up. His concern had vanished, the irritation rolling back in to take its place. “I did not _do_ Reinette, as you are so eloquently implying."

"I wasn't implying anything, ta," she shot back, anger flaring wildly in her chest. "But maybe _you_ have a guilty conscious."

"I can assure you, _nothing_ happened."

"You kissed her!" she shouted, pushing up to her knees so that she was more on his level, holding the duvet in place with her hands on her hips.

"She kissed me!" He placed both hands on his chest for emphasis, yelling and leaning forward so their faces were only a few inches apart.

"But did you kiss her back?" Rose asked quietly, their heated breaths mingling in the small space between them.

"What?" He blinked and dropped his hands limply to his sides. The fire in his eyes dimmed as he stuttered out a confession. "I...well, um. I suppose...yes. A bit."

Rose groaned and rolled her eyes. Of course. Fury rolled and rumbled within her, blood pounding in her ears and her heart hammering angrily against her rib cage. Of all the bloody...

"Only a bit!" he shouted again, as if that were supposed to make it better.

"You still did it though!" She poked him forcefully in the chest, so wrapped up in her own flurry of emotions that she forgot about the duvet. Forgot to keep hold of it, and paid no mind to the fact that one side had slipped as she had used that hand to shove her finger at him instead. His eyes dropped to the exposed curve of her hip, darkening as they slowly returned to her face.

"Rose, it's not like that at all. It was a mistake," he insisted in a low voice that bordered on growling. Her body responded to the rough timbre of his tone, anticipation coiling low in her stomach even as she barreled on.

"I can't believe this." She tried to keep the anger evident in her tone, even as part of her believed what he was saying.

"If you would just--"

"And here I thought that I actually meant something to you."

"You mean _everything_ to me," he blurted.

Rose froze with her mouth hanging open, the implications of his words bouncing frantically in her mind. She still didn't know why he had done it, still felt betrayed by his jump through the window and leaving her behind. But the anger bubbling in her veins jumped tracks, careening towards a new outlet of release.

Her hand shot out, grabbing his tie and yanking him towards her, closing the short distance between them. Their teeth clicked together as he let out a surprised gasp. She wasted no time in allowing him to adjust, her mind full of one single thought...making him come undone. Her tongue slid past his lips, tasting and discovering what she had missed when her head had been too clouded by alcohol.

The Doctor's hands twisted tightly in the duvet as he sought purchase to keep himself upright. She sucked hard on his bottom lip then nipped on it before pulling him closer to trail her mouth over his neck. Her other hand worked at the buttons on his suit jacket, needing him devoid of all clothing _now_. She needed to feel him, to mark him, to unleash her emotions in the whirlwind of passion building around them. The duvet dropped to her knees, leaving her lower half completely bare. She didn’t care. One less layer to remove later.

He tilted his head to the side, allowing her better access and hissed in a breath when she grazed her teeth over the column of his neck. "Rose," he groaned, the way his voice rasped out her name making her shove his jacket off his shoulders carelessly as desire shot rapidly through her system. "Last night..."

She swallowed the remainder of his question with her lips, once more guiding him with a forceful pull of his tie. Her fingers pulled at the silky fabric as his hands anchored to her hips. Rose felt heat surge through her, both from anger and the solid weight of his palms with only her t-shirt to separate them. She yanked his tie from his collar with a satisfying hiss.

"Just because I was drunk," she murmured against his lips, "doesn't mean I didn't know what I was doing." She trailed a hand down his torso, as she pulled back to look him in the eyes. "I knew _exactly_ what I was doing," she purred, cupping him through his trousers.

The Doctor's eyes fell shut and he drew in a sharp breath. But in an instant his eyes snapped open and he was ripping the duvet out of the way, the force of his actions sending a ripple through the blanket that sent the tray clattering to the floor on the other side of the bed. Neither of them noticed.

Their lips found each other once more as hands scrambled to divest him of his clothing. Her shirt and bra were flung to some far corner of the room as he kicked his pants and trousers away from his ankles. Their frenzied effort at getting undressed meant frequent breaks in the kiss, each time their mouths reconnected felt more desperate, more heated. It was wet and sloppy; lips finding corners of mouths instead each other, tongues pushing and stroking without any sense of pattern, and teeth grazing and pinching sensitive flesh that sent shivers through them both.

It wasn't until he had pushed her back on the bed and moved to rest between her thighs, his erection brushing against her stomach, that she realized this wasn't how she wanted it. She wanted this, wanted him. Her whole body screamed to feel him inside her, to fill her the way he hadn't the night before. But she wanted to be the one in control. Her anger still burned as white hot as the desire pulsing between her legs.

Wrapping her legs around his waist, she ground her hips against his cock so that a shudder ran through his body. Using the distraction to her advantage, she rolled them over so that she straddled him and he lay looking up at her in confusion. She gave him a wicked smile and raked her nails down his chest, through his light chest hair. She used enough pressure to leave jagged red tracks, but not enough to break the skin. He groaned and arched into her. Biting her lip, she watched his eyes wrench shut and his mouth form a strangled ‘o’ as she struck the perfect balance between pleasure and pain.

Rose swiveled her hips, sliding his cock through her slick folds, occasionally bumping her clit and making her thighs clench around his narrow waist. His hands dug into her hips, fingers pressing hard enough to leave bruises. She leaned forward, her hands moving up his chest and to his shoulders.

She kissed him roughly, pressing her breasts into him and threading her fingers through his hair, tugging everytime he tried to take the lead. She moved her mouth to where his neck met his shoulder, biting down as she undulated her hips against his hardened length still trapped between them. His fingers twitched and his body convulsed, a needy groan escaping his lips. She soothed the red skin with her tongue before blowing gently over the affected area. There would be a mark there, and she felt deep primal pleasure surge through her at claiming him in such a way.

“I’m all yours, Rose,” he whispered in her ear, as if he knew just what she needed.

She moved to look at him, finding his eyes dark pools that she could easily fall and get lost in. But there was also warmth and love mixing with the desire he was clearly feeling. He tangled a hand in the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled her head down, kissing her deeply yet immediately giving the control over to her. A wordless understanding passed between them, that he would give her whatever she wanted, whatever she needed.

Breaking the kiss, Rose sat up on her knees so that she was hovering over the Doctor. Taking his cock in hand she stroked him twice, earning low moans that rumbled through his chest, before aligning him at her entrance. She sank down on him slowly at first, letting her body adjust to the way he stretched her inner walls, enough to make her ache for more but not enough to hurt. She dropped down on the rest of him in a quick movement, making them both gasp at how perfect they joined together.

His hands curled around her hips once more and he watched in awe as she began to move. The quiet moment of understanding had not been enough to quell the raging chaos of emotions within her. She channeled all of her hurt, all of her anger, into making him squirm beneath her. The need to reach completion herself was also at a high, his cock filling her up in a way that had every nerve in her body standing on edge, waiting for that last push into oblivion. But that would be the easy part. Right now, she focused on making him lose control.

She altered her patterns; swiveling in tight circles, pulling up and slamming back down, and any combination of the two. Each time she could feel his muscles pull taut beneath her and his thrusts became more erratic, she backed off or switched it up, effectively starting the process over again. At first he had been an active participant, reaching up to tweak her nipples or rubbing his thumb over her clit in an effort to make her come first. But when it became apparent that she had very different ideas, he merely grabbed her hips and held on for dear life as she rode him with ruthless abandon.

“Rose,” he panted as he tried to match her pace, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs.

A bead of sweat trickled down between her breasts, as they bounced with her momentum. The Doctor was torn between watching them move and squeezing his eyes shut. Her body was pulsing with energy; every thought, every action, every sense filled with nothing but their bodies entwined and writhing together, rushing toward an end she was almost ready to give him. Her hands on his upper arms held fast, an iron tight grip to support her body as she pumped her hips. _Faster, faster, faster…but not quite..._

“Please,” he begged, trailing off into a string of obscenities.

That was all she needed. Pushing up and changing her angle just so, she moved frantically, keeping his cock stroking deep within her while her clit rubbed against his pubic bone. Sensing her shift in pace, the Doctor used his hands to help guide her hips as he urged her on between ragged breaths. Her body pulled tight, almost to the point of cramping, as the pleasure built at an overwhelming pace. 

With one more tilt of her hips, he was tumbling over the edge, a groan and her name on his lips as his head thrashed back and his eyes shut tight. His body shuddered and shook beneath her, the subtle vibrations and his release inside her pulling her over the edge with him. Pleasure flew from her core to the tips of her toes and the top of her head, encompassing her in a warm, humming sensation. Her inner walls pulsed around him as stars burst behind her eyes.

Collapsing on top of him, his arms wrapped around her and they ground against each other, making the euphoria last as long as possible. He peppered kisses to every part of her he could reach, tiny offerings of thanks and adoration.

Her body aching pleasantly, she kissed him on the chin then buried her face in his neck. Not yet ready to break the connection, she wound her arms awkwardly around him and squeezed. He chuckled softly and tightened his grip in return, allowing them to lay still and bask in the afterglow of finally coming together. In both senses of the word.

Although she felt lighter and happier than she had in the past few days, her guilt still weighed on her shoulders and they would still need to have a rational conversation about the deeper hurt behind what had happened in France. She took a deep breath, releasing it slowly through her nose. "I didn't mean it. What I said...about going home. Not...forever."

“That’s good to know. And..." He paused, trailing his fingers slowly up and down her bare back, "And I’m sorry.”

“For what?” She held her breath, doubting her would actually know what had been eating at her, making her doubt her trust in him.

“For leaving you behind." Rose's head snapped up and he gave her a sad smile, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Even without saying anything about it, I know that’s a larger part of what’s been bothering you. You proved with Sarah Jane that jealousy, while it may flare up, when warranted, it’s not a grudge you generally hold on to. So, I’m sorry. I knew I would find a way back, but it was still reckless of me to to leave you like that. It won’t happen again.”

She wanted to believe him, really she did. And she knew his apology was honest, but how could she know that he wouldn't ever abandon her like that again? "How am I supposed to believe that, every time you go swanning off after some pretty girl in a skirt?"

"I did not _swan_ off. I'll admit, I was perhaps a bit infatuated with her. No, don't...don't make that face. Just listen," he pleaded, trying to ward off the irritation flashing in her eyes. "Imagine meeting some idol, some celebrity that you've admired from afar for _years_. And then finally, one day, you get a chance to meet them. And they are so much better, so much bigger in person. But they spend the whole time fawning over you and how wonderful they think you are and before you know it they're snogging you against a fire place. What do you do?"

"Oh, all right. When you put it that way..." She rolled her eyes, recognizing that he had a point. And at the time, their relationship had been in a very different stage.

“I never meant to hurt you. I was scared and stupid. Besides...I don’t want anyone else," he murmured before gently pressing his lips to hers.

They kissed languidly for a moment, soft pressure of mouth moving in time with one another. He rolled them over and she whimpered as his cock slid from inside her, just as it was beginning to harden again.

The Doctor pulled away, watching her with such tenderness that she felt like the most treasured item in all the universe. "Am I forgiven?"

"Hmm," she pretended to ponder for a moment, forcing her stony mask to stay in place as he pouted at her. She gave him a wicked grin, tongue poking out between her teeth. "What do you say you do that thing with your tongue one more time and we'll call it even?"

A slow grin spread across his face. "Better make it twice, just in case." With a wink and a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth, he ducked under the sheets.


End file.
